


Throw It On Top And Make It Finger Lickin'

by Five678Patty



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Frottage, M/M, PWP, Patrick explores a surprise new kink, Pizza, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five678Patty/pseuds/Five678Patty
Summary: Patrick explores a new kink.  David wonders why they have never done this before.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 24
Kudos: 77





	Throw It On Top And Make It Finger Lickin'

“Mmmm.” David moans in pleasure, completely satiated. He licks the warm fluid from his fingers and holds Patrick’s gaze as his tongue diligently cleans up the mess. He knows he will never tire of this.

As Patrick sits against the brass bedframe, his head turned towards David, he is transfixed by the show his boyfriend is putting on. He can’t get enough of the sounds that escape David’s mouth. That _sexy_ mouth that feels so good wrapped around his cock or when rimming him into oblivion. The mouth that can utter the dirtiest of dirty talk but also the sweetest of sweet nothings. The mouth that so deftly teases him in more ways than one. Like now, for instance.

David stops the progress of an errant drip as it travels towards his wrist with one long steady lick from the heel of his palm up to the tip of his thumb. Patrick can’t look away…and he’s beginning to feel a little bit dirty because of it. Since he and David started dating, he has uncovered a litany of turn-ons he never knew he had. As he watches David’s tongue skilfully lap up the mess running down his fingers, he knows he needs to add another kink to the mental spreadsheet that compiles this newly discovered data, because his cock is most definitely also transfixed; showing a keen interest in the proceedings, a traitor to what Patrick’s brain is telling him is good and proper. His lizard brain, apparently, has no sense of decorum.

“What is wrong with me?” Patrick shakes his head, a small laugh of disbelief leaving his mouth.

“What?” David asks before licking his lips seductively. Knowing.

Patrick’s intellectual brain kicks in. “David! That is disgusting and wildly uncouth.”

“Is it though?”

“Ooh, it is.”

David leans towards Patrick his hand raised, index finger outstretched, a single eyebrow raised. He licks his lips and offers his finger to Patrick. Patrick turns his head away from the proffered digit and instead reaches for the wipes on the bedside table. He pulls one from the pack and uses it to clean the remainder of David’s hand.

“M’kay. You’re no fun,” David says as he closes the gap between his lips and Patrick’s. His newly clean hand grips the back of Patrick’s neck, his fingers reaching and scratching into the short hair at the base of his head. Patrick responds in kind; his fingers digging into David’s hair and pulling him closer. His tongue tasting on David’s lips what was left of their earlier activities, chasing the flavour deeper inside his mouth.

Patrick manoeuvres himself so he can straddle David when suddenly, disaster.

“Fuck.” David breaks the kiss and turns toward the bedsheet where Patrick has accidentally kicked over the pizza box **.** With his hands on Patrick’s hips, David pushes him back to his own side of the bed. He scrambles to right the pizza box, praying for minimal disturbance to the toppings. "Fuck.” David uses his fingers to reassemble the pizza, piling the disturbed toppings back into place as best he can. "Fuck.”

“I see you have your priorities firmly in hand.” Patrick laughs and David glares at him.

“I was saving the rest for later; to refuel.” He gives Patrick a pointed look. 

“It’ll be fine. It’s going to taste the same even if the presentation is off.” 

David harrumphs. "But it was from that new place in Elmdale. It puts the pizza from the café to shame. So.”

“I guess that means we won’t be ordering Tropical Supreme again then?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. I mean, the café _is_ awfully convenient and the pizza _is_ adequate even if not to this particular standard.” David indicates to the pizza on which he is currently redistributing the pepperoni evenly across the base. 

Once David has finished reconstructing the pizza, he moves the box to the floor. He lifts his hand to his mouth and begins to lick the sauce and grease from his finger. He moans in pleasure, completely satiated.

Patrick hands David another wipe. "Seriously, David…disgusting and uncouth.” David ignores him and the wipe and continues to lick up the deliciousness from his hands. "For the record, I will be blaming you if your actions invite ants into this bed,” Patrick continues.

“That won’t happen,” David says confidently, "seeing as though you only let me eat in bed the night before laundry day.”

“Ah, yes, laundry day eve, everyone’s favourite day of the week” Patrick says smirking. David, on his knees, walks himself up the bed a leg on either side of his boyfriend’s compact and muscular body. His hand extends awkwardly in an attempt not to accidentally wipe off the remaining sauce as he repositions himself on Patrick’s thighs. Their eyes lock.

David again offers his fingers and this time Patrick takes hold of the outstretched hand and guides it towards his mouth. David curls his middle, ring and pinkie fingers and stretches his thumb aside. Patrick licks along the length of the index finger before taking it into his mouth, his tongue sweeping against it. Patrick watches as David’s eyes darken. He hollows his cheeks, and sucks seductively hard, his head pulling back slowly as he guides David’s finger down and out.

For a charged moment, they stare at each other.

“Patrick, take off your shirt.”

Patrick takes off his shirt.

David’s lips twist into a pleased grin. His eyes fall to Patrick’s chest which is pinkening delightfully under David’s hungry gaze. David can feel Patrick’s erection straining against denim. With a deliberate swipe of his thumb, he wipes the last of the pizza sauce onto Patrick’s right nipple. He wets his lips and sucks the residue from his thumb as he takes in the sight of this beautiful man before him. Patrick’s toned and lightly haired chest is marred by marinara sauce that David can’t wait to clean off. He gazes down at Patrick. Challenging. 

“Mmmmm, pizza sauce...sexy,” Patrick snarks. "If I’m not mistaken,” Patrick says, "in scenarios such as this, the role of ‘pizza sauce’ is traditionally played by chocolate syrup or whipped cream.”

“Hmmm. If _I’m_ not mistaken, you’ve spent a good deal of your life making the ‘traditional choice’ and look where that got you.”

“Touché.”

Patrick can hardly argue that fact. Nor can he deny just how into this he is. He can downplay his interest with a deadpanned delivery of, ‘ _mmmmm, pizza sauce…sexy,’_ but the fact he is very obviously turned on has not escaped David’s notice. He kind of hates that a little pizza sauce can reduce him to a wanting mess but he knows it’s the man, not the food. And that man loves pizza. Watching David enjoy his food was a surprise turn-on for Patrick, one that he discovered early on in their business partnership. Now, months into their romantic relationship, David has finally caught on.

They hold each other’s gazes for several more seconds before David removes his sweater and undershirt. He pauses momentarily before dropping them to the floor in a messy heap. Patrick raises his eyebrows. David shrugs. "I figure if we’ve going with disgusting and wildly uncouth, we may as well add uncivilised and untidy to the mix.” Patrick grins at him.

David rises from his position seated on Patrick’s thighs and shuffles further down the bed and Patrick’s body. He takes hold of Patrick’s hip and directs him until his is lying supine, his head on a pillow.

David reaches down to the floor, retrieves the pizza box and from it a slice that just minutes before he had been painstakingly reassembling. Now, he picks a piece of pepperoni from it and slowly places it in his mouth, letting it sit on his extended tongue several beats longer than he would were he not basking in the attention of his boyfriend. Patrick’s eyes, as they so often do, find their way to David’s mouth and then follow as his hand picks another slice of pepperoni from the pizza and, this time, places it on Patrick’s chest.

David assembles the toppings over Patrick’s body like a fabled trail of breadcrumbs that haphazardly lead from his nipples down towards the waistband of his jeans. Next, he uses his finger to scoop sauce from the slice and smears it in a variety of his favourite places; the lobe of Patrick’s left ear; the spot where shoulder meets neck (a.k.a., the spot that Patrick has deemed acceptable for hickey placement given the coverage afforded by his button-downs); the soft underside of his bicep. With each new location marked, Patrick moans, wanting and thirsty. Finally, David uses his thumb to apply the last of the sauce to Patrick’s lips mimicking lipstick. Patrick tentatively pokes out his tongue, tasting it on his lower lip.

“Uh, uh,” David says firmly. "That’s not for you. That’s mine.”

Patrick’s tongue recedes, his eyes never leave David’s.

David returns to licking his fingers, cleaning off the sauce, and taking his sweet time about it. Patrick bucks his hips seeking out friction for his erection, still torturously encased in denim.

“David…please…” he whines, very nearly undone and still half dressed. 

David removes Patrick’s jeans and boxer briefs, adding them to the pile of discarded clothing on the floor. As he removes his own clothes, Patrick reaches for his cock but stops at the glare David issues. "That’s not for you. That’s mine.”

Patrick complies, fisting his hands into the sheet, desperate to be touched. "David. Please. I need you.”

“I know, honey. Not long now.”

David settles on the bed between Patrick’s legs, kissing a slow path up one of his thick thighs and drawing out the most divine sounds from his boyfriend. Patrick raises his knees and plants his feet on the mattress, spreading his legs wider, an invitation David ignores. Instead, he noses at the crease of Patrick’s thigh kissing a bruise into the soft skin before switching sides and paying attention to his right thigh. One of Patrick’s hands finds David’s hair, his fingers tousling the strands while his other hand grips the vertical bars of the bedframe. 

David continues north, trailing soft teasing kisses towards Patrick’s hipbone, his fingertips ghost over Patrick’s thighs, then his balls, prompting a sharp intake of breath. Patrick’s back arches.

“David, please,” Patrick says, his voice reedy. His cock is leaking pre-come, desperate for attention. David smiles and sits up. The hand in David’s hair has fallen to Patrick’s abdomen and it itches to reach for his neglected cock. David makes eye contact with Patrick as he reaches down into the pizza box and pulls out another slice. Patrick watches, expecting David to teasingly eat the pizza while torturously ignoring his throbbing dick or alternatively, lay a further trail of edible foreplay upon his person. Patrick is half right. David picks off the toppings, eating them in an excruciatingly slow and seductive manner.

Patrick is enthralled by the performance, watching David place each piece of pepperoni or mushroom upon his tongue before taking it into his mouth. He’d never before been as turned on by sex as he was now since having met David. It was an epiphany. It was as if electricity sparked throughout his whole body and now David is ratcheting it up to a whole other level. That fucking gorgeous mouth teasing and tormenting all the while those dark hooded eyes stare straight into his soul. He thinks he might combust if David doesn’t touch him soon. Patrick’s breath hitches as David wraps the now topping-less pizza around his cock and starts stroking the length at a languid pace, the sauce lubricating each stroke and coating Patrick’s cock in a messy delicious feast.

“Fuuuuuck,” Patrick exhales. _Finally,_ he thinks.

David, very pleased with himself, watches as Patrick’s hips buck, fucking up into the pizza. _Holy fuck,_ he thinks. Not for the first time, he feels awe at all the things that had to happen in both their lives to bring them together like this now. How did he get so goddamned lucky? Patrick Brewer is fucking majestic. David switches up the rhythm, increasing his speed, and Patrick lets out a guttural moan.

As Patrick loses himself to the sensations, David wonders how he’s never thought to do this before. It’s fucking hot. His boyfriend is so fucking hot, writhing and moaning and looking too delicious for words. His world shrinks to that of pizza and Patrick. Patrick and pizza. Too soon, in Patrick’s opinion, David discards the pizza slice.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” David says as he lowers himself between Patrick’s legs. He licks the underside of Patrick’s penis, from the base of the shaft up to its leaking head. The taste of the sauce mingles with the taste of Patrick’s pre-come and David has found his new favourite flavour. He lingers, giving slow measured licks to the head, savouring the taste. "Your cock is perfect,” he says before licking the slit.

“Jesus, David, your mouth is…fuuuuuck...Jesus, fuck,” he cries out as David’s fingers flirt at the edge of Patrick’s hole while his mouth takes in Patrick’s length. David relishes both the weight and taste of his boyfriend’s cock on his tongue. He can’t get enough of the moans interspersed with expletives that escape Patrick’s exquisite mouth. He loves reducing his otherwise clean spoken partner to a cussing blasphemous wreck. David finds his rhythm, bobbing his head; taking Patrick's cock deeper into his throat each time. He slows his pace and lets his tongue lavish his boyfriend’s fucking gorgeous cock. Satisfied that he has sucked Patrick clean from the last of the pizza sauce, David comes up for air, pulling off and licking the underside of the shaft again as one hand thumbs at the slit. This other hand continues to tease at Patrick’s hole, his fingers applying pressure at the rim but maddeningly never entering.

He takes Patrick in deep again. Both of Patrick’s hands have found their way to David’s hair, carding through it at first. Now, as Patrick’s cock’s hits the back of David’s throat, he instead takes hold, finding purchase. He begins fucking up into David’s mouth, crying out his name on each thrust. David savours the feeling of being manhandled, his jaw aching and his cock hard. He lets Patrick fuck into him like this until he can feel Patrick nearing the edge. David taps Patrick’s thigh and extricates his hair from Patrick’s fingers. He pulls off from his cock, having taken Patrick to the brink, but not yet let him come.

“Are you okay?” Patrick immediately asks.

“I’m fine and you’re perfect,” he grins. His fingers briefly find Patrick’s taint as he withdraws them from their ass teasing duties.

“Fuuuuuck,” Patrick moans. "David, I’m so close.”

“I know, honey,” he says. "Imma make you come real soon. I promise.” He applies pressure to Patrick’s shaft right below the head and waits as Patrick orgasm eases back from the edge. "God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he says taking in the sight that is his boyfriend’s flushed body.

“I sure hope you’re talking to me and not the pizza toppings.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” David feigns. "I wasn’t listening…I was, ah, having a conversation with all that delicious and beautiful pepperoni.” He lips quirk into his signature grin and Patrick outright laughs. He loves how much fun sex with Patrick is. He contemplates leaning forward, to kiss the laugh from Patrick’s mouth, but abandons the plan when he realises that would just smear pizza toppings and sauce up his own body…and frankly, David is not interested in sharing. 

Positioning himself back between Patrick’s legs, he makes eye contact before placing a soft kiss to the hipbone. He devours his way up the trail of hair leading to Patrick’s navel, kissing bare skin and consuming toppings as he goes. He laps up the pizza sauce pooling there. His lips feather Patrick’s skin, seeking out the Italian prize; tomato, garlic and basil rich on his tongue as he journeys his way up Patrick’s body. He savours Patrick’s skin just as much as he does Elmdale’s finest pizza. The sauce, the pepperoni, the cheese…and the exquisite writhing he elicits from Patrick’s body. Patrick moans, unbridled, as David licks the sauce from his nipple. Those moans go straight to David’s cock. God, he’s so fucking hard. He blows onto Patrick’s wet sensitive skin then gives it a firm nip with his teeth. 

“Jesus fuck,” Patrick cries, his back arching into it. "David…god…fuck…” he murmurs softer now as David continues to tease. David thumbs soothingly over the right nipple as he kisses his way across Patrick’s chest and places his mouth over the left, repeating the process. He pinches the right nipple as he bites the left, lighting up in satisfaction at the string of curses that fly unfiltered from Patrick’s mouth. 

Patrick’s hands roam over David’s back. The feeling of the sparse hair beneath his fingertips is as thrilling now as it was the first time he got David’s shirt off. David has reached Patrick’s neck and is licking marinara from, and sucking a hickey into, the crook where it meets his left shoulder. Patrick turns his head, allowing unfettered access. He digs his blunt fingernails into his boyfriend’s back, pulling him closer and bringing David’s full body weight down onto his own. He wraps his arms around David’s back in a desperate attempt to fuse their bodies completely. His heart is thundering in his chest, full and ready to burst.

Their hard-ons are pressed between their bodies and the friction is fucking glorious as they wildly thrust against each other. Their leaking cocks find alignment and Patrick wraps his legs around David. He locks his ankles together and, pressing his heels into onto David’s ass, he draws David closer still. Twin moans escape the pair; David’s mouth against Patrick’s pulse point and Patrick’s head thrown back against his pillow. Their hips rolls and thrust at a frantic pace. David’s mouth finds his way to Patrick’s ear, licking the shell and whispering words of filth and fondness. Patrick is completely undone, clinging to David. Needy. 

“David, kiss me…please.” There is an air of desperation in his voice that David hasn’t heard before. It pulls him away from Patrick’s ear where he has been nibbling on the lobe, having sucked cleaned the last of the sauce. "Please, David?” he asks again. David looks at him and stills his hips. Patrick is flushed and frantic, his lips still covered in the pizza sauce. _Fuck_ , David realises and he can’t kiss Patrick fast enough. His hands find the sides of Patrick’s face and he brings their lips together, frenzied and messily. The pizza sauce on Patrick’s lips smear as he opens his mouth to David. The kiss is sloppy and unrefined but it is everything he has been aching for. His tongue smashes against David’s, sweeping together in a familiar dance tasting each other, chasing more, more, more. With hips rocking, they kiss, teeth banging and tongues fucking; urgent and demanding.

In time, David pulls back to catch his breath. He draws Patrick’s lower lip between his teeth and bites down playfully before breaking their kiss completely. He lifts his face far enough away so that he can just look at Patrick. He’s fucking gorgeous. Ever since that first kiss in the front seat of Patrick’s car, there hasn’t been a day where David hasn’t lost himself in the feeling of Patrick’s lips against his own. Sometimes, more recently, kissing Patrick is a prelude to something more, but in the early days it was the whole damned meal. They would lose themselves in the feeling of lips pressed against each other; of stubble against skin; of hands tentatively reaching under sweaters and exploring new terrain. They lost themselves in the newness and in the possibility.

David can’t fucking believe he’d nearly made the mistake of bringing Patrick to climax without having kissed those perfect fucking lips. He slows down the roll of his hips, the urgency gone, and Patrick eases into the new rhythm David has set. For a moment he just takes it all in. "I’m sorry,” David says.

Patrick looks confused. "For what?”

“For not doing this,” David says as he leans down and kisses Patrick. Whereas before it was an urgent frantic mess, this kiss is slow and soft and utter perfection. Patrick’s tongue licks along the seam of David lips until he is granted entry. David further slows down their frotting and lavishes Patrick with a deep languid kiss; one that speaks legions. He cups a hand on Patrick’s cheek while the other musses his hair. Not for the first time, David finds himself wishing Patrick would grow it out a little and give him length to grab a hold of. Patrick’s hands reach up behind David’s neck, drawing him closer.

Eventually, David breaks away from the seductive pull of Patrick’s lips and schools his breath. He kisses the tip of Patrick’s nose, then forehead, then chin. Patrick laughs softly as David continues to smatter kisses across every available surface of his face. David drops soft kisses along his jawline, down his neck and then he is back; lips pressed to lips, tongues gliding together, hearts beating thunderously. David is gripping the sides of Patrick’s face now; both hands firm. Patrick’s hands have snaked their way deep into the thick of David’s hair. He is being thoroughly kissed; within an inch of his life. 

The thrusts that became languid to mirror their kisses begin to build momentum. David rocks his hips as Patrick’s hands migrate down David’s back and to his ass. He uses his locked heels and his hands to draw David’s thrusts closer. Their cocks, wet with pre-come, are grinding together in an ecstasy Patrick never believed possible a few short months ago.

“Fuuuuuck,” Patrick cries and he throws his head back. "David, stop,” he pants.

David stills. "What is it? What's wrong?" Concern floods his face.

"Nothing…it's just... if we didn't stop, I was gonna come."

David looks at him amused. "Coming is kinda the point.” He drops a quick kiss to Patrick’s lips before pulling back to look into his boyfriend’s open face. He smiles fondly down at him. "Did you have something else in mind that you want me to do to make you come?” he asks.

"I mean, no…I just…well, I thought you'd want to fuck me," he says quietly.

David smile turns into a wide grin. “Well, that’s a given.” He drops another kiss to Patrick’s lips. “Just assume I’m in a perpetual state of _always_ wanting to fuck you. Or be fucked by you.” He grins and drops a third kiss to Patrick's lips. “And I am more than willing to do that for you, if you want. Let us not forget that I am a _very_ generous person.” David waits for Patrick to decide. 

“It’s just…we haven’t come like this since we stopped _taking it slow_.” Patrick visibly cringes, “I kinda thought we’d moved on from it...” 

“Oh, honey,” David says as he slowly resumes the grinding. “It’s part of our repertoire. It’s not something we need to move on from.” David looks at him earnestly, “Unless you don’t enjoy it?”

Patrick shakes his head and laughs. “Oh, I definitely enjoy it.”

David leans down for a searing kiss. “So, what’s it gonna be?” he asks once he resurfaces.

Patrick bucks his hips and digs his heels into David’s ass and says, “I want you to kiss me again.” And so David does. When they come, they are moaning each other’s names into their mouths.

David slumps on top of Patrick, boneless; come warm and messy between their bodies. He nuzzles into Patrick’s neck, kissing him there. Patrick wraps his arms tightly around David, never wanting to let go of this man, a weighted blanket surrounding him in warmth and comfort. ~~~~

Eventually David makes a move to get up. "Not yet,” Patrick says.

“If I don’t get up now, we’re gonna be stuck together.”

“Too late, I’m already stuck on you,” Patrick says. David groans and rolls his eyes at the line but Patrick just leans up and kisses him quick and closed-mouthed.

David frees himself from Patrick’s embrace and looks down at the mess of come smeared across their bodies. He makes a kind of grimace. "I don’t think wipes are going to be enough.” Instead, he crosses the room and peeks his head out into the hall, making sure Ray hasn’t returned unexpectedly from poker night, before darting across to the bathroom and grabbing a couple of wet washcloths.

When he gets back Patrick is sitting up in bed, the pizza box next to him, eating the last slice.

“What?” He asks innocently, looking at David’s aghast face. "You said you were saving it to refuel and I needed refuelling.”

“It’s just…I was saving it _for me_.”

“Well, I think you already had your fair share, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he concedes, lips quirking. He watches Patrick finish his pizza. "You know, there’s one good thing that came of this evening...”

“Only one?” Patrick interrupts.

“… and that is I think I discovered my new favourite pizza base.” He raises an eyebrow. "I’m not sure that New York style is gonna cut it anymore.”

“Agreed,” Patrick grins.

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago, I had a crappy day. So, I ate some pizza and the next thing I knew I was writing this fic. The day got infinitely better. 
> 
> A massive (and heartfelt) thanks goes to BiblioPan and Pants for being the most excellent of betas. Their support, encouragement and advice (as well as their smut aficionado wisdom) really put this newbie smut writer at ease. They are amazing!
> 
> Finally, I apologise profusely for the title. It’s from “Gimme Pizza” by the Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. Whatever you do, do not Google it and then watch the video on YouTube. I have regrets. Take my word for it.


End file.
